Shoestrings
by Decantate
Summary: Hawke's shoes are complicated, and Fenris only tangles her up more.  Random out of order one shots.
1. Shoestrings

_AN: Set toward the end of act II. A million thanks to my beta, valiasedai!_

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><p>"Fenris?" Hawke called just as he greeted Bodahn. "What do you know about ladies' shoes?"<p>

"I'm… sorry?"

"Mother went before me and I've no idea how these bloody things work."

Fenris started climbing the stairs as she sat abruptly at the top, red ribbons trailing at her heels. She was wearing something in red and blue in silk and he took his gaze from her neckline to the banister. "Supper with the de Launcets?" he said, voice raising a bit too high at the end.

"Bloody… yes, I…" She had her knee against her throat as she spoke, her voice a bit choked-sounding, and she would surely fray the ribbon as she twisted it under a loop in the leather.

"What is the name of the third son?" Fenris went on, watching the work of her fingers. The shoe gaped. "They are a wealthy family. He is surely a good match for you."

She stopped and her pale eyes darted up at him. "Is that a joke?" she said, trying to force a tone of laughter into her words and not quite managing it. "Are you and Mother in on this together? Foisting me off on some third son who can't raise a blade? You can stick your heads in a bucket, the pair of you. No, actually, just you," she continued musingly. "Mother can't be—"

"I believe that this is how it is meant to go." Fenris crouched and slipped the ribbons through loops before tying them around her ankle. He deliberately touched the side of his thumb against her skin there. He felt his heart beat once as he studied the dagger strapped to her calf.

"Oh! Yes, I see," she said when he rose after a brief moment had passed. A flush had gathered on her throat.

He made a slight curve of his mouth. "Enjoy your evening," he said and turned for her library. Later, when she shut the door behind her, he stole a bottle of wine from her desk and drank deeply before resting his temple against the cool wall.


	2. His

_A/N: Set toward the end of act III. _Ok I said it was a one-shot and then this happened. Also it wasn't betaed. I don't know what's happening! Hold me!_ _

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><p>"Fenris! Are you at home?"<p>

Fenris smiled against the bottle's mouth at the sound of her voice. "I am not!" he called back and took another thick swallow of wine.

"You didn't just make a joke." Her voice was coming closer. "I don't know my place in the world now. _You_ made the joke." She crossed the room and put her hand in his hair. His head tipped back, his neck warm and loose, and he felt his eyes creasing with merriment. "Does this mean that I should give a polite half-laugh and then settle back into brooding?"

He opened his hand and distantly heard the wine bottle crack against the floor. "I don't brood," he said, then reached for her waist and pulled her into his lap. Her hair fell across his face, wet and smelling of rainwater.

"You're drunk."

"It could be that you are right." He buried his mouth against her throat and nipped until she squirmed.

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><p>The chill woke him, that and the sound of the rain leaking into one of the lower rooms. He slipped from bed and fed wood to the dying fire. His head was still pleasantly heavy, and as light grew from the hearth, he pulled the book on the Blight from the nearby bench.<p>

The Templar-Warden who would be King had just ceded command to the Lady-Warden who would be Queen when Fenris heard her shift in the bed. He looked up. Hawke, more asleep than awake, padded toward him wearing naught but her stockings and a blanket around her. She curled to the ground, rested her head on his thigh, and her breath deepened again at once. In her sleep her hand lifted to rest on his knee.

He lowered his book and covered her hand with his. In the lazy workings of his mind, the thought came: this belonged to him. He had been property; now he was not. Something was bound to him in some way instead, perhaps like family would have been, and it was this. He smoothed her hair from her face as warmth seeped into his heart and bowed his head to the book once more.


	3. The Lute

Hawke bought the lute some time after she had taught him most of his letters, but long before he could easily make out words. The atonal plucking made it impossible to focus on crabbed writing. He felt stupid, he felt like a child, but when he looked up he saw her head bent over the strings, her face pinched in frustration and her hands twisted awkwardly.

She had just managed a few simple songs when he made the mistake of bedding her. The house was silent as he left.

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><p>At Aveline's wedding he learned of her singing voice—lovely, but honest and soft. He had to walk near to hear her; the quality of it made him think of how she once looked at him and sometimes still did. He found that a small, foolish part of him did not want the others nearby to hear her sing, as if it were only meant for him.<p>

He bought his own lute a few weeks later, but the strings cut into the markings on his fingers and made them bleed. He threw the instrument in rage, which broke a peg and snapped a string.

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><p>Hawke rarely came to Fenris's mansion anymore, but she found the lute once when she did. She laughed at him while tearing cobwebs from it. Sure-fingered, she tuned the remaining strings. He remembered the touch of those fingers, touching the back of his knee and tracing upward. He asked for a song.<p>

She stopped halfway through, her eyes dropped from him and her face flushed. He laughed for the joke that she made, but his mind was sharpening on knowledge.

He knew that his fear of Denarius had driven him from the only thing that he could not bear to live without. She left and he did not follow her, shackled by his own cowardice.

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><p><em>AN: Thanks to valiasedai for the beta!<em>


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